


The Cryptic, The Impertinent

by FishiestCatfish



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Neglect, Cryptids, Cryptidstuck, F/F, F/M, M/M, Orphaning, POV Alternating, POV Second Person, Possible Hints at Other Ships, Post-Divorce, Scars, Speciesism, Unethical Experimentation, abusive parenting, bodily horror, davekat - Freeform, manipulative parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishiestCatfish/pseuds/FishiestCatfish
Summary: Karkat is a half human, half cryptid that only changes when startled or afraid, living alone in a cabin with his older brother. The only people Karkat has ever known are his brother, who has complete control over his form and is very quick to remind Karkat that he is simply more mature in every way, his mother, who died to a cryptid attack when they were both pretty young, and a couple of online pals.Dave is a boy born into a cruel government-funded research center revolving around the capture and taming of cryptids. His two parents, three siblings and himself work there along with a couple of close family friends and some interns and employees found around the city. His mother is manipulative and his father is downright abusive, and both expect him to work full time for the good of the company, leaving him a hot mess.It was always fated to be a recipe for chaos when the two inevitably met.
Relationships: Bro Strider/Mom Lalonde (Divorced), Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Jake English/Dirk Strider, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	1. A Telling Isolation

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this fic of mine! The POV will be changing around each chapter, so don't get too comfortable with our crab boy here!

A small, messy-haired boy stands before the mirror of his cottage’s only bathroom, playing with his bangs and staring down his reflection with hard, unblinking eyes. He merely went in to wash his face and brush his teeth before heading downstairs for breakfast, but as usual, he caught himself staring at his features. His hazel eyes, his olive skin, the lighter brown strands in his hair. How could it ever just all go away? With a little scare, evidently. One little scare and his entire form was different. Wrong in every way.

After minutes of gazing into the panel on the wall, the child withdraws, thoroughly in a sour mood, and heads out of the lavatory. Another morning, another shitty day of scraping by for a boy known to the world as Karkat Vantas. Well, perhaps “boy” is a bit of an understatement, but it’s the title he prefers nonetheless. Blowing the hair from his eyes, he makes mild steps down the rickety staircase, praying to an invisible god that he may be able to get food without encountering his jerkoff of a brother. 

Lady Luck is never quite on Vantas’s side, as one quickly comes to learn.

“Good morning, Karkat,” calls a lighthearted voice from the kitchen, its origin a young adult with an appearance strikingly similar to his younger sibling’s, yet unlike in ever so slight ways. “I’ve started up on breakfast, so don’t fill up on junk!” See? What. A. Jackass.

Karkat solely grumbles a few half-baked insults in reply, shuffling over to the closet and fishing out bread and jam, which is pretty much the laziest meal without a package known to man: perfect for teenagers. Karkat, having lived in the woods his whole life, never had Hot Pockets or Cheetos to gorge himself on, yet always manages to find a way to eat straight junk regardless. Full meals are for those with free time, and Karkat likes to think himself too important for much of that.

Waving the rest of the sleep from his mind, he drags over a plate, knife and food items and begins to prepare his breakfast of bread and jam at the kitchen counter, doing his best to ignore his brother, Kankri, as he works beside him. This doesn’t appear to sit well with Kankri, though, and he clears his throat, turning to give Karkat a sharp look. Fuck, he hates it when Kankri does that.

“I said good morning, Karkat,” he repeats, voice carrying a hint of annoyance, “You needn’t be so standoff-ish towards me. What did I just say about junk food?”

“It’s not junk, it’s toast,” Karkat replies in a growl-like tone. 

“With sugary jam. Carbs and glucose. Sounds like junk to me,” he retorts, before changing his expression and tone to a much gentler one. “Come on, don’t you like it when I cook for you and we eat together?”

“No.”

A tense silence hangs in the air before Kankri gives up, going back to cooking with a disappointed shake of the head. Karkat isn’t going to pretend to know what Kankri is thinking, and he also isn’t going to show that he cares. That just goes against their whole dynamic, he thinks. As he finishes up his bread and jam, he slides the plate over to sit before a barstool and makes himself comfortable, sitting on the chair and beginning to eat. Another sigh indicates that the conversation isn’t over, much to Karkat’s despair. He hates it when this shit drags on. 

“You don’t make it very easy to look after you,” the older boy comments, not looking away from his handiwork, “I know you aren’t very fond of me, but you don’t have to think of me as your enemy either. I want to care for you. It has been twelve years, haven’t I earned a little bit of your trust by now? It does sting, you know.”

Kankri is met with the sound of a knife idly rasping at a plate. The only response Kankri receives comes after nearly 60 full seconds of knife scraping. 

“No.”

“And why is that?”

The instant Kankri hears Karkat move only to see him raising up his fingers to count, regret hits him like a train. “You talk too much, you think you know better than me, you’re no fucking fun, you think you’re Mom but you aren’t and you hardly ever talk to me if it isn’t to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.” The list seemed well prepared, which only appears to daunt the caretaker more. Nevertheless, he presses on. No shock there.

“First of all, it is very impolite to tell someone that they talk too much, especially your guardian. Second, I have seven years more experience than you, meaning that I do know more. Not to imply that you are stupid, I apologize that it came off that way, but I take offense to the implication that my wisdom isn’t useful or just when I know for a fact that it could be if you ever listened to it. Next, I would like to make the case that safety comes before pleasure, and being courteous to others comes even above that; you seem to struggle with that concept. I am here to help you with that. Furthermore, I may not be our mother, but I am your caretaker just as much as she was. In fact, I’ve been doing it much longer-”

Kankri is cut off as a slice of bread slaps him in the back of the head. He whips around to face the sight of an angry teenager, which had in recent years become quite common. Karkat’s expression was pulled into a leer, his fists clenching. “Don’t compare yourself to her!” he hisses, hurt in his eyes. Realizing he had fucked up, Kankri turns the stove off and walks over to sit next to Karkat, feeling the heat of his stare all the way. Hands in his lap, he makes direct eye contact with the boy and tilts his head. 

“I am sorry, that crossed a line. I’ll add a mental note to keep that trigger in mind.”

Karkat scoffs at the word “trigger”, but he doesn’t outright storm off. Not yet, anyway. When there is no answer for Kankri, he merely continues. 

“I know it hasn’t been ideal, and I know you miss her, and I know you’re mad we don’t have a normal life- though the phrase normal is offensive and I will ask you not to repeat my ignorant diction- but I am doing my very best. I promise you that.”

When that doesn’t cheer the younger brother up, Kankri plays his final card: hope for the future. 

“If you learn how to get your form changes under control, we can try taking a shot at joining the other humans in the city. How would you like that?”

As if a pencil snapping in half, Karkat glares at Kankri with newfound anger in his eyes. “Have you forgotten everything Mom taught us? Humans want to kill us you fucking idiot!” he snarls. This prompts Kankri to become truly taken aback.

“Language! That kind of generalization will not be tolerated, Karkat! Have you considered that she may have been bitter? I’m not going to raise you to fear everything like she did, alright? I was trying to lighten the tone, not bring it down.”

Without much warning, Kankri gets a shove to the chest, and before he can so much as register what had happened, Karkat is out the front door. While an outsider would likely find this to be an extreme discourse, it is common in this household for the two brothers to fight, so though Kankri was daunted by the confrontation, it wasn’t a surprise to him either. 

“I’ll be back later, I’m going to go get some fucking food,” Karkat calls behind himself, grabbing a basket off the front porch and slamming the door shut behind him. He despises his brother’s quips at his late mother- how DARE he try and pull that shit? Trying to cool himself down, Karkat takes out his phone, figuring a chat with one of his best friends might help to distract him as he makes his way to a spot with plenty of food to gather.

**\-- carcinoGeneticist[CG] began pestering grimAuxiliatrix[GA] at 11:14 AM!--**

CG: HEY KANAYA. SORRY TO BOTHER YOU. BROTHER BEING A DICK AGAIN.

GA: Being A Dick Or Being Generally Supportive In His Own Way

CG: SAME THING.

GA: Right Of Course

GA: And How Are You Holding Up Aside From The Supposed Arguments

CG: I MEAN, WHAT IS THERE TO “HOLD UP”? IT’S THE SAME OLD SHIT DAY IN AND DAY OUT.

CG: I’M STARTING TO WONDER IF CRYPTIDS WHO GO AND TEST THEIR LUCK WITH THE HUMANS ARE SMART.

CG: LIKE YEAH, THEY MIGHT BE FOUND OUT AND KILLED, BUT AT LEAST THEY DON’T SPEND THEIR LIVES TWIDDLING THEIR THUMBS LIKE MORONS.

GA: And What Was The Subject Of Today’s Quarrel

CG:

CG: HE STARTED TRASH TALKING MOM.

GA: Understood. We All Know How Sore Of A Subject That Is

GA: Is There Anything Else I Am Missing Or Would You Like Me To Advise You Now

CG: NEITHER, ACTUALLY. I WAS HOPING TO DISTRACT MYSELF FROM THE SITUATION.

CG: BESIDES, I SPEND ENOUGH TIME BITCHING.

CG: HOW ABOUT I ASK ABOUT YOU FOR A CHANGE?

CG: HOW’S LIFE GOING AS A BLOODSUCKER?

GA: I Am Not Sure I Like That Phrasing

CG: VAMPIRE. SORRY.

GA: I Cannot Complain

GA: Feeding Has Been Quite Uneventful Lately 

GA: Did You Know Farm Animals Blood Tastes Different From Humans

CG: NO, I CAN’T SAY I GIVE TOO MUCH OF A SHIT.

CG: I’M NOT INTO THE WHOLE KILLING THING, REMEMBER? REMINDS ME TOO MUCH OF OTHER SHIT.

GA: Right For The Record I Haven’t Been Killing Either

CG: OKAY, I DON’T HAVE ANY DRIVE TO SUCK BLOOD EITHER.

GA: That Is Fair

GA: And Have You

GA: Considered My Offer At All

CG: WHICH ONE, YOU DO A LOT OF SHIT FOR ME. IT’S ALMOST INSANE.

GA: About Coming Over For A Night Or Two

CG: FUCK. I REALLY WANT TO, BUT MY BROTHER WOULD PROBABLY THROW A SHITFIT.

CG: FOR SOMEONE SO OBSESSED WITH EQUAL RIGHTS AND PRESUMPTIONS, HE’S AWFULLY UNTRUSTING OF ME.

CG: OR MY FRIENDS? WHO FUCKING KNOWS AT THIS POINT.

GA: He Does Seem A Bit Young To Be Raising You. I Can’t Say I Blame Him

CG: YOU’RE OBSESSED WITH SEEING BOTH SIDES THOUGH.

CG: THAT’S NOT FAIR, OF COURSE YOU’RE GOING TO TRY AND EMPATHIZE.

GA: Hm. And Here I Thought You Had Pegged Me As A Bloodsucker

CG: YOU KNOW THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT.

GA: As A Matter Of Fact I Do

GA: It Is Simply Teasing In The Name Of Care Karkat

CG: YEAH, I KNOW. I APPRECIATE IT.

GA: Do You Need Anything Else

GA: I Hate To Cut This Short But I Am Nocturnal

GA: I Do Need Sleep As Much As It Pains Me To Have To Go

CG: I’LL BE ALRIGHT, YOU GO GET YOUR REST.

GA: If You Are Sure

GA: Stay Safe

CG: I WILL, THANKS.

**\-- carcinoGeneticist[CG] ceased pestering grimAuxiliatrix[GA] at 11:25 AM!--**


	2. Uneven Ruler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, back at it again with chapter 2! Can you spot the parallels? 
> 
> As a side note, I drew some references for Karkat and Kankri, so if you want to check them out, do so here: https://fishiestcatfish.tumblr.com/post/610880338146803712/cryptidstuck-karkat-and-kankri-designs-for-those !
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The blaring of an alarm is loud, but not always loud enough to wake a teenager; especially not a teenager working himself to the bone. A pale blonde boy lays in his bed, sleeping like a log despite the screeching device at his bedside. If he were to wake and look, he would see that the clock reads 7:00 AM. Though it is early, it is still the time to go, and his perceived laziness does not go unnoticed. It never does in this hellish facility.

A large shadow, no more than a blur at the edges of the room, makes its way into the boy’s sleeping quarters. The boy’s name? Dave Strider, and he’s late for work.

Not a single sound is created as the dark figure makes its way to loom over Dave, nothing but two shining triangles visible in the black mass. There isn’t so much as a movement. Then, without warning, the tranquility is brought to an end as the man attacks, knocking the boy out of bed and pinning him to the floor with a blade at his neck before he can so much scream. Dave, heart pounding in his chest, looks up to the two reflective triangles with a gulp, instantly knowing it to be his father, or “Bro”, as he preferred to be called.

“Mornin’ old man,” he croaks, voice weak with guilt and nervousness. Bro does not return the greeting, simply snorting and standing up, pulling his blade back and pushing Dave with his foot. 

“Sleep in again and I’ll rough up that pretty boy face of yours,” he replies curtly. Dave in his heart knows that the man isn’t joking in the slightest. Sure, he slept in, but he had been so tired from the overexertion that had been expected of him lately that it almost seems to have been worth it. Groaning softly, the youngest Strider sits up, fixing his hair a bit and looking up to the man with little more than an apologetic expression.

“Message loud and clear,” Dave affirms, “No need to do any of that today, just let me go eat and I’ll get back to work pronto.” To further prove his point, Dave gets up and begins to get dressed as he speaks, attempting to show initiative. Bro doesn’t seem impressed, but he does leave him alone, making his way out of the room and slamming the door shut seemingly without even touching it. Yeah, the guy has always been scary like that.

As he slips work-appropriate clothes on, Dave mentally goes over his tasks for the day, or more accurately, his destination for the day. More field research is needed, leaving Dave with the task of working overtime to look for cryptids to study. On a related note, cryptid activity and violence has been sky-rocketing, meaning hunters are needed more than ever. Problem is, his bosses, better known as his parents, don’t bother to give him hints or places to go. As a result, Dave is left mentally checking off where he had been recently to see where he likely should check next. The last few days had been full of attacks, so Dave makes a note that it’s time to go into the woods and do some more research and capture work. It has been a while, after all. 

“Aight, dope, that’s settled then,” he mumbles to himself, finishing up and going to grab his aviators off of his nightstand. A comfort overcomes him as he slips them on, but it’s interrupted by the sound of his stomach growling. Grub time.

As he makes his way out of the makeshift bedroom, he grabs a comb so that he can get to work styling his hair on the way. Some might think living where you work is strange, but for this family, it’s common practice. In fact, everyone in the company resides in the large building, not for lack of money, but simply for the practicality of it. The place is huge and when your work is as dangerous as dealing with cryptids, safety comes in numbers.

That being said, it’s not as if the company is particularly large by any means. The whole thing consists of Dave’s parents, himself, his siblings, and a couple of family friends. Calling it a company is a stretch; it would be better classified as a small family research project. It does make money though. The government is willing to pay shit-loads to get rid of the problem however necessary, the problem being cryptid sightings and encounters. Sometimes Dave is pretty convinced that several moral boundaries are crossed, but hey. It’s the humans or them.

Famished, Dave strides into the kitchen and takes a seat at the dining table, noticing his best friend already there. The geeky kid with thick glasses and messy black hair was deep into an action film on his phone when Strider took a seat but was now pausing it and turning to give his closest pal a large, buck-toothed grin. Fuck it all if the guy isn’t an adorable display of energy sometimes. This friend, John, is eager to start conversation despite the sun hardly being up. “Hey Dave!” he chimes with energy, “Sleep alright last night?”

Nearby at the kitchen counter is a woman in a long lab coat-like dress, a martini in one hand as she stirs batter with the other. That would be Dave’s mother, who is already tipsy in the early morning hours, which isn’t uncommon in the slightest. As the two boys begin to speak, she turns her head to look at them with a smile before going back to her trainwreck of a cooking attempt. Stretching a bit and finishing up with his hair, Dave gives John a single finger gun. 

“Like a rock, dude. Someone’s gonna have to call Dwayne Johnson and inform him he’s been overthrown. His title got snatched away the minute my ass hit the bed. There’ll be public outrage, but a guy can’t help being so damn tired,” he responds, eyes looking to his mother to make sure nothing catches on fire. So far so good. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s good!” John comments with a smile, “I really wanted to work together today, but Jade says she needs me. What are you going to be doing?”

“Oh, you know, just fucking around and hoping to find something useful.”

“Oh, okay.”

The smaller boy in blue turns back to his movie, clicking unpause and watching his screen with eagerness. Dave watches as well, every so often chiming in with critique that John doesn’t seem to appreciate. After about ten minutes, there is a plate of pancakes before each of the two, and a larger plate with more pancakes left out for the others on the kitchen counter. Almost the second all plates are set down, Dave’s mother is gone. Probably off to run a couple of tests, he notes to himself. It’s a miracle that the lady can survive lab equipment with how hammered she always is, but miracle or not, she’s always managed.

Breakfast passes with only John and Dave present, the only exception being one of Dave’s sisters, Roxy, walking in to shove a pancake in her mouth before walking directly back out of the room with little more than a “good morning” delivered through a mouth full of pancake. Evidently everyone is busy as hell, but once again, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Dave gets through his meal quickly and walks to the hallway’s closet to grab his backpack. It carries his sword and first-aid supplies, as well as a few traps and snacks. Waving goodbye to John, Strider makes his way for the front door, only to be stopped with one foot out the exit by a hand around his arm. 

He turns to see his mother there, her expression one of someone who has things on her mind. Evidently she hadn’t left for the lab yet. The teen tilts his head, a brow raising in curiosity. “Yo Mom, somethin’ up?”

“Make sure you bring something back,” she mutters to him in a hushed tone, “Results or a creature or something. Anything. It’s been days since you’ve done anything all that helpful, Davey.”

Fuck, he hates being called that. “I fought off a few cryptids yesterday and the day before, what do you mean?” he questions, his mouth forming a frown. His mother puts a hand on her hips, voice getting that condescending edge to it. 

“Well yes but, you know dear, look at the others. Dirk and Rose bring a lot to the table, and so do your friends. We, your father and I, just want you to be able to keep up. What with you working at half the efficiency. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?” she pouts, lip pursed a bit. Dave has to admit to himself, that stung.

“Ah, yeah, I’ll try,” he grumbles awkwardly, attempting to pull away. Her grip tightens. There’s a couple of moments of silence. 

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“You wouldn’t want to hurt someone who loves you, would you?”

Fuck. Well. How is he supposed to respond to that? Her eyes seem to stare into his soul and, unable to meet her intense gaze, he simply answers with his eyes averted, though he doubts she can tell through the sunglasses. “Of course not.”

Like clockwork, her hand releases him. He stumbles through the door, barely all the way out of the building before it’s closed behind him. Once again, a common occurrence. Not just the door, but the conversation itself. Yeah, maybe it sucks, but this is the life of one Dave Strider, and he feels it’s not his place to complain about it. He has shelter, food, friends and family, and really, what else do you need?

As he makes his way for the woods, Dave finds himself put off by the morning’s events and pulls his phone out, tapping around on various apps for a while before finally finding his finger hovering over pesterchum. What the hell, why not? He still has a solid twenty minutes’ walk and hasn’t heard from his sister in a day or two. He figures he’ll shoot her a message.

**\-- turntechGodhead[TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist[TT] at 11:05 AM!--**

TG: yo rose  
TG: rose  
TG: yo  
TG: hey  
TG: hey rose  
TT: What is it, Dave?  
TG: sup  
TT: Yes, I think we already have that base covered. I am fine, but I can’t help but get the hunch that you aren’t.  
TG: what me  
TG: nah man im chill as chill can be  
TG: like damn i might stop global warming all by myself by neutralizing the heat just by fucking existing  
TT: Uh huh.  
TG: yep  
TG: hey listen totally unrelated but  
TG: you ever get the feeling that like  
TG: you arent living up to some of the others maybe  
TT: Alright, I’m going to do my best to pretend that you are asking purely hypothetically and answer. In no way are you ever going to be willing to admit this is connected to yourself.  
TG: yes exactly  
TT: No.  
TG: oh  
TT: That is because I do not try to measure myself against everyone else. That’s only going to lead to tension and hurt feelings, you know.  
TG: yeah no of course  
TG: glad were on the same page  
TT: Are we now?  
TG: shit yeah  
TT: Hmm.  
TT: Very well then, I will keep my skepticism to myself.  
TG: ouch  
TG: cold lalonde  
TT: Moving on, what are your duties for the day?  
TG: uhhh monster hunting i guess  
TG: bet youre pretty jealous huh  
TT: Not really. I rather like the lab work.  
TG: yeah right  
TG: everyone knows the adventure shit is where its at man  
TG: all that shit john watches is about dudes fighting bad guys and monsters and shit  
TG: lab stuff is for lame ass horror movies  
TT: I rather enjoy horror movies.  
TG: yeah i know but thats because youre a goth  
TT: I like to call myself a patron of the dark arts, but if you insist.  
TT: Anyway, I can’t help but notice that you seem to be chatting despite claiming to be out “adventuring” and doing all of the cool things. Are you perhaps putting it off, or are you just really good at multitasking?  
TG: man shit aint so binary  
TG: im walking there  
TG: but jokes on you because im here now which means i can go work now  
TT: Alright. Off you go then.  
TG: wait  
TG: rose  
TT: Yes?  
TG:  
TG: nevermind  
TG: lets talk later  
TG: gonna go for real now  
TT: Alright, see you later, Dave.

**\-- turntechGodhead[TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist[TT] at 11:25 AM!--**


	3. The Root Of the Problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this update took me so long, I got a major case of writer's block! Thanks for all the support, it's been incredible!! <3 I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Dry autumn leaves crunch under cheap, home-made shoes as Karkat picks his way through the brush, careful not to step on any twigs or things of the sort. It isn’t as if he is trying to sneak up on or past anything, it is simply a habit. When everything is made out to be the enemy from birth, one doesn’t tend to like attracting attention to themselves. The wicker basket he had taken with him is now swinging from his arm as an afterthought. He isn’t finding any bushels of fruit from which to collect, and after a while, he’s almost forgotten what he’s doing out here in the first place. That is until a large bush of nice, bright berries presents itself before him. Bingo.

Finally minding his basket, he pulls it forward and reaches out with his other hand to pluck food from the growth. One, two… it is truly monotonous work, but if it isn’t done, he and his brother will likely have nothing to eat. The gathering goes without a hitch, which isn’t uncommon. Karkat only ever had two incidents when it came to gathering food, and one of them had been on his return home rather than out on the original endeavor. 

The first time, which came about when Karkat was only 4 years old, had occurred when he was out in the backyard of the cabin, gathering wild onions from the spurts of grass in the yard. His mother had clearly sent him out there to keep him busy, and it was working. In fact, the young boy had been so focused on the task of gathering “the most onions known to man” that he failed to notice the growing shadow coming over him as a creature made its way to stand before him. Not just any creature, in fact, but a human. When he had noticed the figure, fear clawed at his heart, causing him to do what he did when he was startled: take on his cryptid form.

According to his mother’s retellings of the story, she had been washing dishes while glancing out of the window by the sink to watch him when she caught sight of the grown man, well-equipped with a hunting rifle and standing over the small, quaking figure of a fox-like creature. A skoffin, to be exact. To most people, this may appear to be a hunter going about their daily business, but this woman knew that creature to be her own child, and was out the back door and screaming at the man in the backyard in mere moments, waving a pot in her hand at him. She never got a chance to use it, as the sight of a human woman screaming her ass off had been more than enough to scare the hunter away.

Karkat doesn’t really recall much about that day aside from the warmth and comfort felt as he was scooped into her arms and brought inside to recuperate. He had recovered his human form within mere hours, but the image of the man haunted his dreams for weeks to come. That’s when his mother had taught him one of his first harsh lessons: humans are evil and wish nothing but harm upon those different from themselves. It didn’t take much to convince him either. That stranger had seen him as a human, and yet still looked as if he intended to harm. It didn’t matter if Karkat had humanity inside him; to the man, it was fair game. Simply because he, at times, could be different. It’s fucking stupid if you ask him, but the way the world works nonetheless.

The other incident had been much, much worse.

Karkat, now five, was trusted to go into the woods for very brief periods of time to gather small plants or edible fungi. Not one to disappoint, he had been out doing exactly that, picking up any and all odd objects lying around the forest. Looking back on it, the boy is fairly certain that several of those objects hadn’t been fungi or plants, but rather rocks and eggs, but in the end, it didn’t matter. He had lost the entire basket when he had flung it to the floor in a panicked scramble for home upon seeing the front door of his home broken in.

When the small child had gotten inside, what assaulted his vision was nothing less than brutal slaughter. Sprawled on the floor was his mother, dead, his older brother nowhere in sight as something all too familiar to him, skoffins of all things, tore at her very flesh, scattering her remains about the floor like confetti at a party. He had run away, finding Kankri in his room and flinging himself into his arms before Kankri had barricaded the room and waited out the attack. They buried what was left of her the next day. That’s when Karkat learned his second harsh lesson: cryptids are just as evil as humans.

Though only two things had ever happened, the magnitude of the two events left Karkat in an uncomfortable state of mind where he wasn’t expecting bad things to happen but braced himself for them anyway. This time is no different. As each berry is picked, Karkat listens closer and closer to his surroundings, taking in all the sensations of the forest and keeping his guard up. That’s why when one of the bushes behind him shakes, he instantly darts off to hide behind a tree, shielding his basket to avoid falling fruit making more noise. 

Karkat holds his breath as he listens to newly arriving footsteps get closer and closer. Branches crack as something cuts the air, which is almost certainly a weapon. Vantas attempts to choke fear back, not wanting to change in such an urgent situation. The noise stops, and for a moment, he thinks he’s got a handle on the situation. That is until the voice speaks.

“I dunno what’s back here, but I sure as fuck don’t know any humans that live in the woods or any animals that make human-sized noises,” it comments sharply. It is a smooth male voice, punctuated with an air of indifference yet not laced with humor. 

Karkat mentally kicks himself as he feels himself change shape, sharp teeth poking the inside of his mouth and fluff taking over his every sensation. Like magic, the forest seems to grow around into something of gargantuan size. Though it shakes him to his core, he takes the opportunity of a smaller form to hide a little better. Slipping out of his basket’s handle, he quietly makes his way between the roots of the tree, only looking back up once he’s firmly situated under a couple of roots only a few feet away from his basket. 

When he finally does look, he sees a pale blonde boy bend down to pick up his freshly-abandoned carrier. He looks to be about the same age and is wearing incredibly casual clothing- only a t-shirt and jeans. It’s hard to read the guy’s face; his expression is obscured by big black aviators, but Karkat does notice him pursing his lips. The other boy doesn’t seem to have noticed him yet, but he also doesn’t seem as if he’s playing around. Karkat notices with a wince that there’s a sword slung off his back. That’s what had made the cutting noise, most likely.

“Okay look,” the stranger speaks once more, glancing around, “I know you don’t know me, whoever you are, but this ain’t my first rodeo. I’m like, the Master Miyagi of monster hunting, okay? You best cut your losses now, I know you’re still here. The handle of this thing is warm. Don’t wear my patience and I’ll be easier on you.”

For just a second, Karkat considers the proposition. At least then when he’s caught, he’ll have a little bit of diplomacy on his side. On the other hand, maybe it isn’t too late to get away. Realizing that’s what his mother would have told him to do, he attempts to slip out of the hollow and dart off. 

Every fiber of his being is hit with a shock of dread as fingers close around the scruff of his neck, pulling him up to dangle before the cryptid hunter. He swallows hard, doing his best to look non-threatening. It doesn’t seem to work. The boy’s face hardens, a frown of annoyance plastered on. This only makes Karkat’s heart race faster, but he refuses to show defeat. Not yet. He kicks a bit, trying to get down, but it only tightens the grip on the back of his neck.

“Now I ain’t saying you look much like a cryptid,” he continues, “but it does seem a little odd for a dog thing to be carrying around little human things and sticking around to listen to my rambling.”

“Don’t call me a dog, I’m not even close, dipshit,” Karkat attempts to snap, though it comes out as more of a growl. The stranger raises a brow.

“Sorry. Whatever you are. Fuck man, does it look like I care?” he replies as if he can speak fluent fox-cat. Must have been the timing that tipped him off.

At that moment, Karkat decides that this guy is not only dangerous but also a complete douche. Two things that make him want to get away and QUICK. Beginning to kick harder, Karkat twists to attempt to snap his jaws around the hunter’s arm but is quickly shaken so hard that skin on his neck aches, and he drops limp once more, glaring at him through exhausted eyes. The expression is returned much the same way. 

“You know, I’d be less of a little shit if I were you,” the unnamed human grumbles, “My life could be so much fucking easier if I took you in right now and went on my merry fucking way. I mean, of course I’m going to take you in. Of course. I don’t cave to puppy eyes. Not that I think you’re nearly fucking cute enough to pull those off. Well, maybe if you weren’t trying to bite me. Maybe. Man, who the fuck knows? The point is: knock it off dude.”

Karkat goes rigid. Take him in? Take him in where? Cold hard panic grips him like a blanket of darkness and despair. Where would he go? Will he even survive the destination? Is he going to get tortured or experimented on?

Like clockwork, the hand around Karkat’s neck loosens, and he is soon after brought to the floor. When he finally brings himself to look up, he’s met with the sight of a face that almost seems to pity him in a way. Confused by the sudden change of heart, Karkat yips out in questioning, only to have a hand placed over his mouth.

“Hey,” the stranger responds, “Quiet down. God knows if someone else is around here. Just. Fuck man. Can you stop looking so fucking scared? You’re really making me feel like an ass here.” There’s a long pause as both boys are left with nothing to say. The first to speak back up is the hunter, and it’s only after a moment or two. “...I’m going to have to let you go, aren’t I? You don’t really look like you could survive very long in a place like the facility.”

Before Karkat can register the backhanded insult or the grand gesture of kindness, the other human is getting to his feet, nudging aside the basket of food and running his hands through his hair nervously, neurotically even. Behind his shades are two panicked eyes of indiscernible hue. He heaves a deep sigh and turns to walk off without a word, mumbling to himself as he goes.

As much as Karkat hates to brush off the woes of others, he is too full of his own fear bubbling up within him to pay the stranger much attention. As soon as his footsteps fade off, Karkat grabs the basket in his mouth and books it towards home, pelting across the forest floor as fast as his admittedly shorter legs could carry him. Adrenaline won’t allow him to feel the full impact of the encounter yet, but in the back of his mind, Karkat knows that the anxiety is going to hit him like a truck when it wears off. He wants to get home before it does. 

All he can think as he makes his way back is how to assure that he and Kankri remain safe after this. Will the hunter follow him? Will the hunter tell the others about him? The guy seemed of pure heart but in this world, you can never be truly sure. That was what his first two lessons had been all about, after all. He wants to doubt it, to call the notion ridiculous, to assure himself that the hunter had spared him, but he can’t, and thus it should come as no shock to hear that Karkat makes it home a hyperventilating mess of whimpers and trembles. Almost the moment he’s through the front door, he watches his vision fade. Karkat blacks out as the sound of approaching footsteps sink into the void.


	4. Orange Like Hot Coals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, sorry it took so long! I'm trying to do this as a side-project without completely ignoring it, which is hard when motivation is low! I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy in this trying time!
> 
> As a side note, yes Dave has albinism. I like the headcanon, fight me.

Dave makes his way home fairly late that night. He had been extra desperate to find something to show for his day of work, and it isn’t due to a lack of trying that he returns empty handed. Well, sort of. Sure, he had found something, but it had looked so fucking scared, he couldn’t bring himself to take it in knowing that something of its size couldn’t survive the brutality of the lab and its holding facility. When he had let it go, he was sure that he might be able to catch something before night time if he put himself in full gear. Surprise surprise, that’s not what happened, and the youngest Strider was forced to return to base with nothing.

He tiptoes his way through the door, closing it as quietly as he can manage and treading lightly. Considering how late at night it is- Dave would guess around 1 or 2 in the morning- it isn’t unreasonable to think that he can get through the house without encountering another soul. Unfortunately, that isn’t what happens. Right as Dave makes his way into the nearly pitch black living room, he stops dead in his tracks, the familiar glint of pointed shades from across the area catching his eye, hovering right above where the couch rests. Fuck.

The boy raises his hand and waves in greeting, an awkward and forced smile on his face. The sight of the glasses had dried his mouth and taken the breath out of him, and now he was struggling to find his voice. He manages just barely. “H-heeyy, Bro. What’s up? Hangin’ out in the dark-ass living room? Ya know I heard that shit’s bad for your eyes, you should be careful unless ya wanna get those dope shades in prescripti-”

“Dave,” the figure interrupts, the shifting glint on the shades alerting Dave that his father has tilted his head head down to give him a sharper, harsher look, “Mind telling me why you’re sneaking around the house like fake-ass Santa at Christmas time?”

“I-”

“Nah. No need, actually. I can see perfectly well why.” The man pauses the monologue to whip out his phone and turn the flashlight on, shining it at his son. Dave has to squint even through the sunglasses, his head throbbing from the harsh light shining in his face. “You’re empty handed. Again. Days of ‘effort’ and nothing at all to show for it. How exactly is that, hm? No one else is having this much trouble bringing home the goddamn bacon.”

Dave laughs nervously, turning away so that the light isn’t bearing down on his admittedly sensitive eyes. Well, that and to avoid his father's stare. There would be no “being honest”, because frankly that wouldn’t end well for Dave. He had let a cryptid go out of his own foolish kindness, and if there is one thing Bro isn’t, it’s kindly. Mercy isn’t part of the Strider-household lesson plan, that’s for damn sure.

“Well,” Dave attempts, his voice cracking under the pressure of the encounter, “You see, that’s the funny thing. Guess I have some kinda curse or somethin’ because no matter where I look I can’t seem to find anything. I don’t know how the others are getting so fucking lucky.” 

Bro holds up two fingers. For a moment Dave just stares, dumbfounded. Two? Two what? He gives an unconfident smirk, shielding his eyes with one hand and putting the other on his hip. “What, that supposed to be how many seconds I have to run or somethin’?” he asks, really hoping that he’s wrong. There’s almost no way in hell he could outrun Bro; the man is practically a real-life ninja, agility and all. 

“There’s two real possibilities here,” Bro answers, and Dave doesn’t feel the relief he should from being wrong. “Either you aren’t actually trying to look and are slacking off in all the wrong places where you know shit isn’t going to be, or you’re finding things but you aren’t bringing them home. Both of these possibilities aren’t what you’ve been raised to do, and I think you know that.”

The younger Strider nearly chokes on his spit, fear making his heart thrum in his chest violently. He can hear his own pulse in his ears, and his hands ball into tight fists as the scars on his skin seem evermore noticeable in the moment. Dave is sure as shit he’s about to get a few more. He opens his mouth to speak, say SOMETHING in his defense, but nothing but a weak noise comes out. Nothing but a dying squeak of protest. 

“Shut your fucking mouth and listen up, boy. There’s also two ways this shit’s gonna go down,” the man growls, the orange hue of his eyes smoldering in the dim light from his illuminated phone light. He looks like he’s about to confirm Dave’s fears, but makes no movement towards him despite it. “Either you’re going to bring something home tomorrow, or we’re going to give you a week or two vacation for some father-son training. Me and you. Alone. In the woods. Sword to hand combat.”

Dave feels as though he might actually throw up right then and there, but he forces himself into stoicism and nods, dropping the hand from his hip. “Yeah aight sure. Tomorrow you’ll have a fresh catch from me, swear it.”  
“You better.” 

Bro turns off his flashlight, and Dave lets out a sigh of relief, dropping his other hand to his side. Albinism is a bitch, but not as big of a bitch as his old man. His father gesticulates in a way that lets Dave know that he has been dismissed, and Dave makes a shaken turn and heads for the stairs, listening closely to make sure that Bro isn’t following him for some sort of surprise attack. To his relief, there are no footsteps. Right as he’s about to round the corner, however, Bro speaks up from his spot on the couch. 

“And by the way? 7:00 sharp tomorrow morning. Wake your ass up earlier.” 

The teen nods, dizzy on his feet, and continues walking, making his way up the stairs two at a time to put distance between himself and his old man twice as fast. He enters his room without looking back, shutting the door behind himself. Although he would love to lock it, Bro had taken the lock the moment Dave had gotten the room, so there was no conceivable way to do so. He stumbles before flopping onto the bed, every part of him tingling from the shock of the encounter. Deep breathing, in and out. That’s what Rose always tells him to do. Flopping onto his back, he stares at the ceiling and begins to take slow and steady breaths. In… two… three… out… two… three… four… five. 

His body slowly begins to regain feeling, the stinging tingle of his nerves fading as he closes his eyes and idly listens to the sounds around him. All that matters is that he has this night to be safe and sound. Once he’s entirely steady, he sits back up and begins to slide off his day clothes. They are grungy and damp from the day’s work, and Dave tosses them over to the furthest corner of the room, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He needs a shower tomorrow. With a heavy sigh, he sets his alarm to buzz at 6 AM. The alarm clock reads back to him: 3 hours and 43 minutes from now. Great, fucking perfect.

Smelling like shit and feeling like bigger shit, Dave clambers under his covers and lays to rest on his back yet again. His eyes are heavy, but for whatever reason he can’t bring himself to shut them yet. He’s stuck thinking about tomorrow.

“Aight, what’s the game plan for tomorrow, Dave?” he asks himself, gaze tracing along the divets in the ceiling. It felt nice to rest against the cool sheets. “You need a catch but your old man’s getting kinda suspicious. I mean. I guess you did let that one lil’ fella go. What was I supposed to do, drag a little cub to his death?” 

He sighs, reaching up to rub a hand through his messy hair; this shit was hard. Normally Dave could bring something in without a second thought. It’s not that he doesn’t care; Bro had raised him to know that it was him or the cryptid. When it comes down to it, he’s only doing what he has to in order to get by. Besides, some cryptids really ARE dangerous, and in those cases it’s nice to be able to help people in need. It feels good, like some character in a cheesy action film swooping in to save the city. This time had just been so different though- different in a way that Dave just can’t place no matter how hard he tries. Maybe it was the puppy eyes, or maybe he had been mind controlled? Nah, it was something other than that. Something in his gut told him to let that boy go. 

Alright. Back to the matter at hand. How would he guarantee a catch for tomorrow? The only thing he knows is the general location of the shapeshifter, and that little guy can’t help him with anything. Or… can he?

Maybe, just maybe, the creature would know a cryptid that he could bring home. Maybe a menace to humans and cryptids alike, something that they could both agree to him taking down. At the very least, it was a better lead than none. Dave smiles, realizing that he truly is onto something. Sure, he didn’t know exactly where the guy had gone, but Dave is an expert tracker raised to hunt critters from birth; surely he would be able to figure out where he had run off to. Then it would all be a matter of diplomacy. 

Alright. Yeah. Fuck yeah, that’ll work. It might be hard to track down such a small thing, but luckily Dave has someone he can call for a favor. He rolls over to grab his phone, grinning ear to ear as he opens his texting application up and clicks on his contact of choosing.

\-- turntechGodhead[TG] began pestering gardenGnostic[GG] at 2:34 AM!--

TG: jade  
TG: hey jade  
TG: jade  
TG: hey this is kinda an emergency so if youre asleep or something please wake up asap  
TG: dont make me come into your room and gently beatbox you awake  
TG: wait that sounds kinda creepy nevermind  
TG: ignore that  
GG: dave what the hell??  
GG: its literally 2 in the morning!!  
TG: yeah yeah i know and im sorry etc  
TG: but i need to phone in a favor  
GG: jeez youre lucky bec already had me up  
GG: i think he wants a midnight snack :/  
TG: woah speak of the devil am i right  
TG: its a straight up seance in here  
TG: demons all like holy shit you woke me up too dudes  
TG: not cool  
GG: dave! Make your point!!  
TG: right sorry  
TG: could i maybe borrow bec for tomorrow  
GG: what? Why?  
TG: were cryptid hunters jade isnt it obvious  
TG: for cryptid hunting  
GG: well yeah i guess that but why do you need him? and why specifically tomorrow???  
TG: lets just say im on some thin ice and i could use the help tracking down some little guy  
GG: oh  
GG: is your dad being a jerk again? :(  
TG: yeah but dont worry about it im chill as ice  
TG: i just need a bit of help is all  
GG: well i mean sure you can take him if you really think itll help!  
GG: do you know how to handle a dog on a leash?  
TG: does anyone really need to know how like  
TG: shit seems pretty straightforward  
TG: dog check leash check  
TG: aight lets hit the road big guy  
GG: well thats just it! he is a big guy!  
GG: big dogs are little hard to walk  
TG: well im gonna have to deal because my shit gets wrecked if tomorrow doesnt go perfectly  
GG: awh yeah alright  
GG: well at least let me give you some pointers before you leave in the morning  
GG: if you lose my dog im going to be pretty pissed!!!  
TG: woah wouldnt want an angry harley on my ass  
TG: i better be careful  
GG: so let me teach you a couple things before you leave!  
TG: alright fine but wed have to be quick about it because ill need all the time i can get  
GG: okay!!  
GG: is that all you needed?  
TG: yeah p much  
GG: okay goodnight!! :)  
TG: wait  
GG: hm?  
TG: i uh  
TG: cant sleep  
GG: well some of us still need to!!  
TG: i know i know i just  
TG:...  
TG: shit is wack  
GG: hehe well that sure is one way of putting it!  
TG: yeah it sure as shit is  
TG: and i dunno i trust your dog and all but  
TG: theres still that small nagging fear  
TG: feels like raving piranhas going ham inside my stomach  
TG: id love to call the cops for disturbance of peace but these motherfuckers aint afraid of no cops  
TG: you know what im saying  
GG: no dave i honestly dont :(  
TG: oh  
TG: nevermind then  
GG: id really like to try to understand though!  
TG: nah shits fine and peachy  
TG: i was just rambling no need to worry about it  
GG: are you sure?  
TG: yeah  
TG: ill let you get some rest  
GG: okay…  
GG: goodnight dave  
TG: goodnight

\-- turntechGodhead[TG] ceased pestering gardenGnostic[GG] at 2:55 AM!--

Dave sets aside his phone on the nightstand, plugging it in and rolling over. He pulls his covers over and forces his eyes to close, doing his absolute best to drift off. He’s more tired than he had anticipated, and within five minutes he drifts off into a disturbed and very short sleep. Tomorrow will be another day.


	5. Expectations You Just Won't Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes being a caring older brother can come off as being a bit of an ass- but that's a risk Kankri is willing to take to keep Karkat safe and well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Life is a bitch, depression is a bigger bitch, expectations are a huge bitch, and the inability to focus is the biggest bitch of all.

“Hey, are you awake?”

Karkat slowly opens his eyes, mind foggy from the long unconscious spell. Everything feels wrong. Stiff. He picks his head up only to be met with the sight of his brother by his side. Judging by how his brother looks a bit larger than usual, it quickly registers in Karkat’s mind that he is still a cryptid- something that sends a icy jolt of fear through him. It’s never lasted through a sleep like this before. Closer examination reveals that Kankri is clearly a bit worried as well; his face is twisted up into an expression of pure concern. That doesn’t help much to settle Karkat’s nerves.

The younger Vantas attempts to speak, his tongue foreign in his mouth and his throat stinging with the dryness of cracked desert rock. Of course, what comes out of his maw isn’t human, but that’s one of the advantages of having someone like you around- Kankri could understand him all the same. “Yeah. How long was I out,” he asks, taking a moment to adjust to the feeling of his ‘speech’. The bark is slow, unsure. 

Kankri frowns a little, almost looking disappointed. “I see you haven’t got quite the hold on things. I learned speech eons ago Karkat, honestly,” he lectures, but upon seeing his younger brother get visibly angry, he decides to drop it for now in favor of answering the question. “You have been out for a little under a day. That brings me to my own question: what happened? I found you collapsed in the foyer and covered in mud and twigs. You’re going to need to take a bath, you know. You’ve gotten filth all over the couch.” 

The lecturing is near unbearable when combined with his pounding headache, but Karkat manages to keep an even temper for now. As annoying as Kankri is, the fact that he had taken care of him while out was still rather kind and something to appreciate. It doesn’t make up for his remarks about their mother the other morning, but it’s a start. Karkat stammers out another uncertain reply, “Jeez, sorry for fainting without taking a bath first.” Okay, so maybe not an ENTIRELY even temper. With a slight growl, he reminds himself internally to dial it back a bit. “Though I am sorry things turned out that way. I had a run-in with a human.”

Kankri gives an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s what all of this is about? Another human? Really Karkat, you may not look it right now but you ARE human. For you to be so afraid of one that you get yourself this worked up over it is completely ridiculous! How are we ever going to move our life forward if you’re so intent on hating your own kind?”

The younger of the two yaps back at him, overlooking the smaller arguments to get to the main point. “It was a hunter, Kankri!”

With that one sentence, the color drains from Kankri’s face, leaving him looking absolutely aghast. Karkat watches with a small hint of satisfaction as the older Vantas is silenced for once in his life. He genuinely thought he may never see the day. More than smug, however, Karkat’s heart is racing at the memory of the teen with a weapon strapped to his side and a hand around Karkat’s own scruff. Whatever sleepiness or grogginess he was feeling before is completely gone by this point. It’s a mix of fear and satisfaction all tangled up within him now. 

“You’re... you’re sure? A hunter, this deep in the woods?” he clarifies slowly, tone nervous.

“Well the guy had a weapon and talked about bringing me in somewhere, so yeah, I’d say so. Unless you’ve got a better clue, that is.”

Kankri is silent for a moment or two more. “...And you’re not just making this up to change my mind about moving closer to the city?”

“No, of course not! In fact, just me telling you this might have inspired you to move out of here anyway to avoid the fucking hunter, what are you, stupid?”

“Karkat,” he snaps sharply, sitting up straighter and glaring him down. “Watch your mouth. English or not, I won’t tolerate that foul language in this household, understood?”

Karkat sits up to match him, trying to ignore the dizzying feeling of pulling himself upright and focusing on returning the glare in Kankri’s direction. He says nothing for a while, and when he finally does reply it’s in a mumbled and pouty tone. “Anyone from an outsider’s perspective would think you’re batshi- ..stupid for preaching a cat fox on language, just so you know. Another reason we can’t move. There are plenty of reasons for people to think you’re crazy.”  
  
“Well I would hope that I wouldn’t need to worry about that because this is only temporary. They’ll see me talking to a human, not an animal, yes?” he dismisses outright.

“Yeah but I don’t ever stay one way or the other, Kankri. Sooner or later someone’s gonna catch you talking supposedly to yourself,” Karkat retorts, the pessimist that he is.

Kankri throws his hands up into the air and turns away for a moment, exhaling in a huff of irritation. “You aren’t very easy to speak with, you know. One would think you don’t always have to get the last word but low and behold you’ve made it your life mission. Or at least to argue with everything I say.”

“No, I don’t have a life goal.”

With his point proven seemingly without notice from his younger brother, he groans and rests his face in his hands for a moment. Parenting is hard. Parenting is hard, and nobody understands.

They sit there in silence. Tense, unspoken words between two brothers who could never see eye to eye, and may never learn how to do so. For Karkat, this quiet fostered a growing resentment- a time for him to reflect and only think about how wrong Kankri is about everything and how much of an ass he’s being. For Kankri, it’s time to look to himself and see if there’s something that needs to be done to end this petty fighting. In the end, both reach their conclusions, but it’s Kankri who’s the first to speak.

“Karkat, I have tried to reason with you. I’ve been patient, let you slip up and yell and swear at me. Let you have your way with a lot of things. This time, I’m going to put my foot down. You will NOT continue to talk back to me. We are moving to live with actual people, and that is FINAL. I can finally send you to a proper school. I’ll have a life that was robbed from me, and feel a part of something, and you will be able to as well. This is no longer a debate. As a guardian, this is how it is going to be. End of story.”

The young pup bristles, anger washing over him like a tidal wave. He howls and spits at him, looking like he would punch him if he could. “You can’t do that! I knew it- I KNEW you only care about yourself! You feel safe because you can control your form and your speech. You don’t care at all how dangerous it is! You don’t care if I’ll be outcast or harassed or fucking killed! All you do is sit there and think, ‘How can I make Kankri happ-’

“Karkat, shut the fuck up!” Kankri had finally had enough, getting to his feet and turning back to face his younger brother, growing red. “I have had it up to here-” he gestures above his head, “with the tantrums and the insults and the absolutely despicable things you say to me despite my very best efforts given for you day in and day out. You think I haven’t thought this through? You think I spent 12 FUCKING years raising you just to let your life be ruined or taken? Are you dense? I have plans, and not only that, we’re not going to let you laze around and stay complacent with your issues any longer! We are going to work on them. You are going to learn and we will be having lessons every. Single. Damn. Day until you learn how to control your form and learn to talk while you’re like-” He motions to Karkat with a wave of his hand, “THIS! So grow up a little, and watch your tone of voice- bark with me, Karkat!

The youngest is shocked- frozen in disbelief and nervousness, maw agape. He feels... Fear. Genuine fear that has him stiff as a board, expression hurt, full of the feeling of being cornered. He presses back against the couch, shaking. Kankri seems to calm down a little at the notice of his sibling’s fright, relaxing into a look of sympathy and guilt. He kneels back down, taking a moment to take a deep breath. Fuck.. he had not meant to lose his cool like that. It had been a long time since he had done that with Karkat. They had both been fairly young and it was a kid losing his cool at what was essentially a baby at the time. Doing it again felt like a knife twisting in Kankri’s gut, and the fear in his brother’s eyes only twists it more.

“Excuse my language,” he murmurs, clearing his throat quietly. He reaches out to put a hand on Karkat’s shoulder. The teen flinches, but he doesn’t pull away. “I’m sorry. Yes, you weren’t being great, but I shouldn’t have spoken like that or yelled like that. My emotions got the best of me, and I apologize.“ He gives the slightest of smiles, rubbing his shoulder a little bit. “It’s going to be okay. I meant what I said about keeping you safe. We’re going to get through this, and your life will be all the better for it.” He lets that sit for a moment before adding, “That’s not to say I don’t understand your worry. After all, who knows if we’ll be able to teach you anything given the new circumstances, but I promise that no matter wh-”

“What new circumstances?” Karkat interrupts, looking suspicious and uneasy. That was odd. Kankri didn’t EVER admit that something couldn’t be fixed with enough lecturing, so what the fuck was THAT? “It’s not that I want to have lessons, especially not from you, but what makes you suddenly say all of that? Since when have you thought you couldn’t teach someone something?”

Kankri lets out a very nervous laugh, sympathy only becoming more obvious as he gives Karkat one more pat on the shoulder before pulling away, arms crossed on the couch in front of him. “Well.. you know Karkat. I mean, it might not be as fast as we hope. You’re showing some rather odd symptoms now. Your episodes have never come close to lasting this long without prolonged thunderstorms or fireworks involved, you were particularly odd in your sleep mannerisms and something is certainly feeling different about this time to me. Perhaps this may take a little longer to fix, yeah? It could go away in a couple of hours, sure, but I can also understand the uncertainty of not knowing.”

It’s like an eerie dread has crept into the room, smothering the youngest Vantas with its horrific implications. “That’s a bit of a jump Kankri, I’m fine,” he assures- though it’s not clear if he’s assuring himself or his brother. “That’s ridiculous.”

His brother shrugs and says nothing to the contrary, not wanting to hurt Karkat’s hopes. It does nothing to assure either of them.

“Let’s just,” Karkat continues, voice cracking despite it not even being true speech, “Let’s… forget about all of this. We don’t need to move. We don’t need to worry about my ability to change back. Let’s just forget today ever happened and go back to living the life we were, yeah?

Kankri shakes his head, and once again Karkat has to bite his tongue. “As I’ve already expressed, we ARE moving, Karkat. This is a non-negotiable matter. I’m already near picking out a home, and if everything goes well, we’ll be out of here in about two months.

“You can’t just fucking do that!”

“Karkat. Language. You need to trust me this once.”

Head reeling with fury, the youngest leaps off the couch to go do what Kankri can only assume is a routine storm off and tantrum. The small skoffin runs up to his room and pushes open his computer, using the large keyboard to type old man style- you don’t need defined fingers for that- and contact his friend. He needs someone to let it all out to.

\-- carcinoGeneticist[CG] began pestering twinArmageddons[TA] at 7:24 AM!--

  
CG: HEY COCKSUCKER.

CG: I’M IN A REALLY BAD MOOD AND I NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO.

CG: GET YOUR NERD ASS ONLINE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.

TA: well 2omeone woke up on the wrong 2iide of the bed liike alway2.

TA: what miinor iinconveniience pii22ed you off thii2 tiime?

CG: HA HA. I’M QUICK TO ANGER, HOW FUNNY AND ORIGINAL. 

CG: I BET YOU CAN HEAR ME SLOW CLAPPING FROM WHEREVER YOUR WORTHLESS TECH BUTT IS PLOPPED DOWN.

TA: actually ba2ed on the 2peed of your typiing, iid be wiilliing two bet you dont actually have hand2 two clap wiith riight now.

CG: EXCUSE ME?!?

TA: naiiled iit, diidnt ii?

CG: SURE, BUT EVEN IF YOU DID, IT DOESN’T MEAN YOU AREN’T A PIECE OF SHIT SO FOWL THAT DUNG BEETLES WOULDN’T TOUCH YOU WITH A TEN FOOT POLE.

CG: YOU KNOW I’M SENSITIVE ABOUT THAT YOU WASTE OF SPACE! HOW ABOUT YOU GO DOUBLE *FUCK* YOURSELF?!  
  
TA: hey look YOURE the one who 2tarted the conver2atiion wiith iin2ult2 and low blow2, okay?  
  
TA: 5o iif iit bother2 you 2o much, you only have your2self two blame.  
  
TA: damn and here ii thought dog2 were 2uppo2ed two be friiendly or 2omethiing.  
  
CG: I’M NOT A DOG!  
  
TA: youre about a2 prediictable a2 one. And 2mart.  
  
CG: FUCK YOU! YOU KNOW, I DON’T HAVE TO TAKE THIS! I COULD JUST DISOWN YOU, WHO WOULD WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH A FUCKING COMPUTER??  
  
TA: oh 2o now iim ju2t a fuckiing computer, huh?  
  
TA: you know what kk iive really fuckiing had iit up two here wiith you!  
  
TA: youre only takiing 2hiit out on me becau2e you cant look at your2elf iin the fuckiing miirror riight now wiithout cryiing your2elf two 2leep.  
  
CG: I FUCKING HATE YOU, HOW MUCH OF AN ASSHOLE DO YOU HAVE TO BE TO SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT!?  
  
TA: clearly le22 of an a22hole than you!  
  
CG: FINE, FUCK OFF!  
  
TA: you fuck off!  
  
CG: FINE!  
  
TA: fiine!  
  
CG: 

CG: WE’RE STILL FRIENDS RIGHT?  
  
TA: oh my god kk.

CG: LOOK I’M JUST UPSET, I’M SORRY, OKAY?  
  
TA: liike ii 2aiid, a2 prediictable a2 a dog. and ii gue22 a2 de2perate for companiion5hiip.  
  
CG: HEY!  
  
TA: alriight, iim kiidiing, dont get your tiit2 iin a twii2t.  
  
TA: now that our weekly 2quabble ii2 out of the way, what were you me22agiing me about?

CG: I JUST NEEDED TO TALK ABOUT SHIT.  
  
CG: KANKRI’S MOVING US TOWARDS THE CITY. HE THINKS WE’RE JUST LIKE THE OTHER HUMANS AND THAT WE CAN FIT IN AND DESERVE A NORMAL LIFE.  
  
TA: lol youre liiterally a fox cat thiing riight now, that2 2tupiid.  
  
CG: YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT? BUT HE WON’T LISTEN TO ME! AND I TRIED TO TELL HIM THAT AND HE YELLED ABOUT TEACHING ME HOW TO CONTROL IT.  
  
TA: lmao the day you get good at 2omethiing ii2 the day hell freeze2 over.

CG: I’M GOING TO IGNORE THAT.  
  
CG: BUT RIGHT AFTER THAT, HE STARTED SAYING THAT CLAIM WAS IN THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT AND ‘MIGHT NOT EVEN BE AN OPTION CONSIDERING THE CIRCUMSTANCES’ OR SOME BULLSHIT LIKE THAT.  
  
TA: the ciircum2tance2?  
  
CG: HE THINKS BECAUSE I’VE BEEN TURNED A COUPLE HOURS LONGER THAN NORMAL AND AM HAVING AN ‘UNUSUAL EPISODE’ THAT I’M STUCK FOREVER OR SOMETHING.  
  
TA: waiit what? what even triiggered iit thii2 time?

CG: I HAD A RUN IN WITH A HUNTER AND IT SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME.  
  
TA: oh.  
  
TA: yeah kk ii dont know how two 2ay thii2 but your brother miight be riight.

CG: WHAT? RIGHT? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN RIGHT?  
  
TA: oh 2hiit you havent heard the rumor2? tho2e guy2 are tryiing two take the humaniity out of cryptiid2. 2omethiing about moral debate2 hurtiing buii2ne22 or 2omethiing. kiinda hard two ju2tiify kiilliing 2omethiing two the publiic iif iit2 more human than aniimal, you know?  
  
TA: iive heard crazy 2hiit man. 2toriie2 about entiirely 2ane cryptiid2 fliippiing theiir 2hiit and kiilliing thiing2 out of nowhere, centaur2 actiing liike regular hor2e2, that 2ort of thiing.  
  
CG: OH PLEASE, THAT SOUNDS LIKE A BUNCH OF GOSSIP MAGAZINE BULLSHIT.  
  
TA: ii mean ii 2orta beliieve iit. Or would buy iit beiing half true at lea2t.  
  
CG: YOU DO?  
  
TA: yeah. liike ii 2aiid, iit2 2omethiing two con5iider. 

CG:  
  
CG: I NEED TO GO GET THEM TO REVERSE IT.  
  
TA: what? kk no what the fuck.  
  
CG: I NEED TO GO FIND THEM AND TELL THEM TO TAKE IT BACK.  
  
TA: kk that2 2tupiid ii could be entiirely fuckiing wrong and even iif iim not that ii2 liiterally a 2uiiciide mii22iion.

CG: I DON’T CARE IF IT’S A FUCKING SUICIDE MISSION. I’LL BE FINE. NO MATTER WHAT, I’M NOT GOING TO LET MYSELF BE CHANGED LIKE THAT!  
  
TA: kk 2low down.  
  
CG: GTG.  
  
TA: KK!

\-- carcinoGeneticist[CG] ceased pestering twinArmageddons[TA] at 7:31 AM!--  
  
TA:  
  
TA: fuck

Changed forever? No, no no. That would literally be Karkat’s worst nightmare. His Mom would curse him from heaven, he’s sure of it. The cryptid is ready to take shit into his own hands- er… paws. He’d go on an entire adventure if that’s what it takes. He drags a satchel from the closet, going around the room and grabbing anything he needs. Phone? Shit, he must have dropped it when he transformed. Crab plushie? Check, he can’t live without that thing. It is one of the last things he has from his mother, and it serves as good luck. Karkat remembers with a pang the first time he realized it no longer smelled like her. He pushes the thought out of his head, continuing to pack. Food stashed away from his room? Check- though he could only find plants. That might be a problem with his current dietary needs. He’d cross that bridge when he gets to it. Water also stored away in makeshift bottles? Check. Finally, he grabs the last object- a marker. He would use it to write in case he truly needs to speak with one of the humans. It’s hard to write with just your mouth but... he’d pull it off. 

With that, Karkat pushes himself through the bag strap a few times until the bag is wrapped firmly around his midriff, the thing pressed to his side as if he were a horse. He.. realizes he won’t be able to go out through the front door. He works around it by hopping onto his desk, where a window sits just above the surface. He struggles around the lip of the window, making sure to be extra careful to avoid being too loud and alerting Kankri. Once the window is up enough, he climbs down the wooden edge of the house rear-first, using his nails to dig into the old bark. He gets to the forest floor, grass wet on his toes with the dew of the early morning and takes a quick rest to catch his breath as well as to calm himself. He’s shaking.

“Okay Karkat, you’ve got this. You need to make her proud, and you need to fix yourself. If you don’t… you’re really going to suffer. Do you want to live the rest of your life like this?” He pauses to hiss at the idea. “God no. I hate feeling like this- feeling helpless.”

Taking one last look at the house and one more deep breath, he wriggles a little before bounding off, going as fast as he can to make sure no one can follow him. Leaves and branches whip as his face, leaving a few cuts, but he doesn’t care. He just needs to do what his well-being demands. And this is it. This is what he needs to do before he can be at ease. He’s doing it man, he’s making it happen-

The train of thought is interrupted as he slams snout-first into someone’s leg.


End file.
